


country at war

by 100demons



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:03:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: james bond/m, ALL OF IT, but seriously look at that d/s dynamic all he wants is to pleeease her but he hides it under insouciance</p><p>He blinks and steps forward almost involuntarily, feeling as if he has spilled apple juice all over his pants and was being scolded for it. Like a child. “Madame,” Bond nods, meeting her steely blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	country at war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endquestionmark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endquestionmark/gifts).



Dark, gloomy, a buzzing fluorescent light swinging from the ceiling— he’s certainly got style. The room reeks of a penny pulp stolen from the carts outside of a second hand bookstore, with warped wooden floors and walls of craggy cement, a scene straight out of a cheap espionage thriller from the thirties.   
  
He can hear the floorboards creak a little and he adjusts his cuff, the hands of his watch ticking on obliviously. Meeting today with the top of the top today, Bond.  _Don’t know whether to congratulate you or plan your funeral_ , Dan had joked but his dark eyes were serious as handed Bond a slim file.  _Goodbye_ , he had said, giving Bond a firm shake, the words heavy with finality.  
  
The door swings open and Bond draws himself deeper into the shadow between the walls, watching, waiting.  
  
“Well, what are you doing there, lurking about like an overgrown vulture?” M snaps, slamming the door shut with one hand and pulling out a pair of spectacles with the other.   
  
He blinks and steps forward almost involuntarily, feeling as if he has spilled apple juice all over his pants and was being scolded for it. Like a child. “Madame,” Bond nods, meeting her steely blue eyes.   
  
“You may call me M,” she says dismissively and settles down at the plain plastic table, her practical and commanding presence an odd match for the utilitarian furniture. “Sit, so we may have this meeting over sooner rather than later.”  
  
He obliges and eases down in the hard plastic chair provided, across from…M.   
  
“Not many apply for this…promotion,” M says delicately, picking and choosing her words carefully. “And even fewer are accepted.”  
  
Bond raises a brow. “Am I to presume….”  
  
“You are to presume nothing,” M says brusquely and takes off her spectacles, folding them with quick, efficient motions. “You are young, you are reckless and you have an excellent record for getting the job done in extremely unconventional ways.”  
  
“But the job gets done,” he points out and M’s eyes harden.   
  
“Yes,” she murmurs. “It does.”  
  
He tries not to smile.  
  
“Very well, then. There’s a flight leaving Heathrow tonight for Prague at seven o’clock. I expect you back in three day’s time without a problem.” M tucks her spectacles back into her jacket pocket and pats it once. “Understood?”  
  
“Of course, Madame,” he says, watching how the corner of her mouth tightens in response. “I hope I’ll prove to be an admirable servant.”  
  
“Very good then,” she sighs and stands up, the chair squeaking as it slides across the floor. “You are dismissed, Double-Oh Seven.”

**Author's Note:**

> for ashcheche, as always


End file.
